Luca DR
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07 – Rage fueled battle
🕑 Added 2023-05-11 12:01:11 +0000 UTCThe hospital loomed over Albert’s thoughts like an inescapable doom. And yet here he was, stuck in traffic in this hellhole of a city, all because of whatever the military were doing both at the bridge and at the bay. They paralyzed all roads with just two cutoffs, and the whole things was a telltale sign of a larger problem that was not his to fix. Still, it was good to hyperfixate on something, because the alternative was imagining all the scenarios where his gramps was dying and he could do nothing about it.
He needed to think about something else. How about the fact that the system seemed to have concocted some sort of daily challenge? That was surely interesting. Moreover, it gave him 100$! That’s crazy, and obviously very interesting. He could fake having a job, for instance, and use the money for all sorts of nice things.
That was not enough, and his mind spontaneously gravitated towards the fact that there was something he could do to help. He only needed to complete a quest, and he would get rewarded with a book about magical items. Learn how to make magical items, and he could make a potion or at least a talisman or something! But in order to complete the quest he needed to create an Appraisal skill from scratch, and from all he knew about such a skill, it involved things that he was not sure he knew how to do. An appraisal needed to draw upon knowledge that was already present in some form or another in the universe, which of course begged the question of whether it was the universe itself or at least mana that was somehow capable of storing and processing information.
The thought of a supercomputer made of magic, already present in the universe wherever mana was, made him shudder. This was dangerously close to a theory of panpsychism, something that surely his doppelgänger in the skill videos was going to bring up sooner or later.
“Albert? We are here.”
Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Albert walked almost robotically towards the entrance to the hospital. While Mother did all the paperwork needed for the visit, all he could feel was the biting cold of the acceptance room, and he knew that the cold was necessary in a place like this to slow the growth of pathogens but how it also made the place feel like an alien landscape, dangerous and evil. Unfeeling towards the suffering of whoever was resting in it, sick and dying.
He had failed in making the appraisal skill in the car, and all he could do now was follow Mother until he reached the green door.
“Hey champ.” His grandpa said weakly. The wrinkles on his forehead were like trenches, his skin was tight and flaky. There was a large bruise visible under the sterile gauze, stained red.
“Hey.” Albert said. “What were you thinking old man? Going down the stairs face first?”
The old man laughed, but the laughter got stuck in his throat and he coughed. Albert heard Mother say that he shouldn’t make grandpa laugh or it might worsen his condition.
“Heh,” he said in the end. “I always said those stairs were devilish. I was right.”
Albert took his hand. It was cold. “How are you doing gramps?”
He shook his head, wincing. “I’m not going to go gentle into that good night.”
Tears streaked Albert’s face. “You old age should burn and rave at close of day.”
“Ah… I always hated that poem.” Grandpa said.
“But you loved the movie. Do you remember when we watched it together? You couldn’t figure out what was going on half of the time!”
“I’m too old to know about space…” he paused, catching his breath. “Black… holes. But I am happy you asked me to go with you.”
Albert felt a knot in his throat. “Always.”
But his grandpa did not reply. Hurriedly, Albert checked what was going on and found that he was still breathing.
“He needs rest.” Mother said, dragging him away.
The clock on his phone told him that it was 6:23 AM of Thursday, September 18. Only two more days before he needed to go to a club for the first time in his life. Yet, the problem felt so distant compared to the gravity of the current situation. Mother had left to go to work, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
“I’ll come back during lunch break and take the afternoon off, okay?” She had said.
Albert insisted that he wait here, and so he did. She left him some money to grab food at the vending machine at the ground floor and then he was alone in the lobby. Sitting on uncomfortable faux-food chairs that squeaked and groaned under the weight until the nurse allowed him back in. It was the right time to do some experimenting. He was running against a ticking clock, the deadline set by the irrefutable decline of his grandpa’s condition. He could see him, weakening by the minute when they were inside. He knew that he did not have enough time.
Using [Healing] had been useless. There was no way to direct the healing energies to another person. Healing with that particular skill was strictly personal.
And of course, the whole book and potion plan was a fool’s errand. He could see now why. It was not going to be a quick endeavor.
Could the system help, maybe? Cough up a quest or something?
[New quest]
- You need more time to figure out how to help a person you love. Or maybe some help from a benevolent agent.
- Quest: Complete the daily challenge.
- Reward: small healing potion.
***
This time there was no white room. There was a cavern, dim and damp, with a pedestal in the middle. All around the pedestal was a shield protecting it, and on it was a purple gem. A trial of some sort, Albert immediately thought, and he found out very soon that he was not wrong in his assessment. Three flying monsters, like bats, appeared from an unseen crevice in the wall of the cave while two goblins began to charge at him.
He ducked, avoiding the aerial strike. This was a steep increase in difficulty compared to the first day. Readying a fireball, of which he could now shoot 13, he took aim and threw. The ball of fire described a perfect arc in the air, the usual parabola of a thrown object plus air resistance that he was so familiar with, but the bat dodged it with a swift jerky motion. Maybe even a bit outside what aerodynamics of a bat should allow for.
Perhaps it was best to focus on the goblins first. Circling the central pedestal holding the purple gem, and letting the shield that surrounded it be in the middle between him and the bats, he readied another fireball. Hitting the slowly charging goblins was much easier. With the first one down, he was about to shoot the second one as well when Albert was suddenly reminded that the bats were still there. One of them dove through the air, hitting him in the head before he could even react and harmlessly bouncing off his protective shield.
Which, incidentally, also disappeared. Its accumulated charge was spent, and it would be at least a few hours before it could be used again. Now without the free get-out-of-jail card, Albert needed to play it smart. He waited for another aerial attack, all the while tracking the goblin with the use of [Perception] to pick up the sound of its footsteps. As soon as one of the bats tried to attack, he jumped out of the way while [Strengthening] his body, and in his wake left a fireball waiting for the monster to eat.
The bat screeched in pain, and its death cry also made Albert temporarily deaf. The damage was even worse with the enhancing effects of [Perception]. Which coincidentally meant that, while he recoiled in pain, he was wide open. The goblin on the other hand was unfazed. It charged, tying to skewer Albert with its crude spear.
All sorts of empathy and compassion towards goblins evaporated in that moment. Albert wrestled the spear from the goblin’s hands, finding the task surprisingly easy with his superhuman strength, and impaled the green-skinned humanoid. Watching the particles of magic flow into him from the rapidly disappearing body, he refocused on the other two bats. They were descending on him from two different sides, cutting off most of his escape routes.
Three different strategies spawned in Albert’s mind. Two of which were, admittedly, more the stuff of novels than of real life. The first was to tank a hit and make use of the opening to kill both monsters: one while they were still diving at him and the other when it was stuck to him. He discarded it on the grounds of it being a stupid idea.
The second one was to roll away as fast as possible, which he also discarded because it meant that he would be back to square one.
An idle thought intruded into his mind as he was examining the third option. Time was still flowing in the real world; he knew from the first time he did the daily challenge. Did it mean that his body was there, unmoving on the chair. Or did the system actually transport him—
The bats were not waiting for him to make assumptions on the nature of magic. Which forced him to collapse his strategies to a mere reaction to danger. Finding that the spear he used to impale the goblin was on the ground close to him, he rolled towards it in a hurried state of controlled panic and picked it up. He holstered it up with one hand, propping it against the ground while in the other hand the familiar heat of a supercharged level 2 [Fireball] scorched his skin.
The first bat was gutted, the second incinerated. Or so he thought.
A screech. Albert’s mind took a moment too long to realize that the first bat was not dead, but had managed to get out of the way before it could be beheaded by a crude spearhead. Feeling the panic turn to rage, fueled by the thought that his grandpa was waiting for him on what was going to be by all means his deathbed unless Albert acted fast, he unleashed a torrent of fireballs. One after the other he threw them, and while most of them washed the walls of the cave with their flames, all he needed was for one to hit the monster.
Screaming, he threw the last fireball with more strength and speed than ever. He felt a notification appear, but he dismissed it, watching the flames engulf the horrendous mockery of a bat and incinerate it.
Albert collapsed to one knee. Realizing that his body was running on fumes, adrenaline, and rage, he let himself fall to the ground and exhaled. Feeling the shield around the purple gem drop, he decided that he did not care about it. He needed a little rest.
He stared at the ceiling for a couple of minutes.
[Skill proficiency increased.]
- [Strengthening II] -> [Strengthening III]
- Albert’s notes: more explosive power and agility.
The purple gem was cold to the touch.
***
Samantha Cromwell wiped away the smeared makeup, then dried her forehead with a handkerchief. Going down to the deep end of the Quadrangle was always a messy business, as was interrogating magically gifted individuals. She would have to change before going to the Bay to see the state of the Event. Interrogating people did have, however, the side effect of being a perfect remedy to high stress.
The underground part of the facility was a maze of tunnels and dim lights, damp with water infiltration that gathered in puddles on the ground. Mice sometimes crossed the corridors, scurrying away to hide in little holes in the concrete walls, unaware of the fact that those holes were not accidental. Mice, water, everything down here was planned down to the last detail.
A door hissed open, revealing another section of the basement. The grimy environment of the dungeons left its place to clean and sleek metal hallways, bright and tidy. Only Samantha’s shoes dirtied the immaculate floor, carrying contaminants from the other side of the Quadrangle. It didn’t matter, for in less than a second all traces of filth were gone, absorbed by the floor.
There were three eggs, leftovers artifacts from earlier events, suspended in tubes in the middle of the room. A wide assortment of instrumentation was pointed at them, most of which would be utterly alien to the normal person living on earth. Nothing new, the lab coat told her.
Bursting into the nearby observation room, she saw from the satellite images that the city was quiet.
“I need a lift.” Samantha said, and then she was gone.
The winds in the Bay were strong, the saline air cold and relentless in its assault of the crowd of people assembled around the circle. It shimmered, and shifted. There was a man inside, the short and old figure of the only one who could venture inside spaces like these without risking death.
“Everyone has been wiped, ma’am.” PsyOps reported.
“Good. Now go and help the crew set up the perimeter.” Samantha said.
The tall man groaned. “Why me? Let the grunts do the work.”
The woman held her head. Even without her heels, she was taller than even him.
“You have telekinetic powers, Orson. Go and use them.”
“But—”
Samantha inhaled, and Orson Smiths codename PsyOps, stilled like he was frozen solid. She exhaled slowly and a plume of white condensation trailed behind her, moved by the wind.
“It’s been a long night, Orson. A very long night. And an even longer day awaits me still. Go, and set up the perimeter or I will send you to another cycle in the CARF.”
The man saluted. “Yes ma’am.”
It was a while later that SpaceOps finally emerged, cradling the artifact in his brass gloves. It was another egg, black and smooth, just like the others. But on its surface were little gems, etched in the stone in little grooves.
“A tier 2 artifact.”
SpaceOps nodded. “It’s different than anything we have seen so far, madam. It was suspended in the air, surrounded by a field of thick astral energies.”
“What was it doing?” Samantha asked.
“Nothing! It was just standing there, inert like the others.”
“Take it to the Quadrangle.”
“Ma’am. I need to rest before—”
Samantha shoved a small crystal in his free hand. SpaceOps stared at it, beady eyes through murky goggles. He didn’t speak. He merely ingested the thing with slow movements, lingering before swallowing. He disappeared in a warping of space, leaving only a trail of swirling energies behind.
